


All I want for Christmas

by raspberrymoriarty



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Canon, Christmas, Cookies, Fluff, Love, M/M, Post-Reichenbach, Post-The Reichenbach Fall, alternative, free-form, otp
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-23
Updated: 2015-12-23
Packaged: 2018-05-08 17:47:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5507063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raspberrymoriarty/pseuds/raspberrymoriarty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock being the Grinch, Jim being Santa's favorite and bringing Christmas spirit in Sherlock's life. (Very very fluffy)</p>
            </blockquote>





	All I want for Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> Well, I'm not native English speaking and this is my first fanfic. Please don't be too harsh /.\

Sherlock snorted and rolled his eyes about his partner's enthusiasm. He hated Christmas. All that consumerism, happiness and lights! It was awful and unfortunately Jim seemed to love it. Or he just liked to provoke him. Wouldn't make any difference, either way he had a very joyful Jim moving around in 221b. There was a Christmas tree with lights and ornaments and all that shit, stockings, even the skull wore reindeer antlers. Jim had forced him a Christmas sweater, put a mug in his and let him sulk in his grumpiness on the couch. He had put up a mistletoe over his crotch on his belt, smiling cheekily at his partner. Jim's jumper read "All I want for Christmas is you and the world" and he seriously had sticked a crown in his fucking hair. Apparently he was "The King" and expected the crown jewels from Santa. At some point Sherlock even figured it was cute, but that time was long gone. "Can you please stop?" "What?", Jim interrupted his singing. One more time "Last Christmas" and Sherlock would've died anyway. "Everything. Kill yourself", Sherlock mumbled. "Darling, what do we say?" "Can you PLEASE kill yourself?" "Good boy. And NO. However maybe I stop singing when you bake biscuits with me." Sherlock huffed. Either listening to more Christmas torture or baking. It certainly couldn't be worst. He even hated baking when he was a small boy. He had loved Christmas back then. In the foreground because he got a lot of bee and chemistry stuff. He stood up and dragged himself in the kitchen, throwing a pitying look at his skull. At least his parents wouldn't come over. Mycroft and Lestrade were on holidays who knows where and John had taken his family to his parents. That's why Sherlock had thought he could just ignore Christmas, but Jim obviously had to act like a complete jerk. "This is so ordinary", he claimed. "Oh come on!", Jim sighed. It was rather difficult feeling christmassy with that Grinch living with him. He tried to seduce him to participate in Christmas spirit, but Sherlock was resistant. He pushed his significant other on a chair and gave him the dough he already bought. "Now, please light up that beautiful face, will you?" Sherlock snorted and began to cut out tiny skulls, arms and crowns. Well, these were in fact special cookies, Sherlock thought. Jim watched him silently, occasionally tugging his hand through Sherlock's hair before he sighted disappointed. "Darling, if you won't put on a smile and start behaving a bit more joyful I will blow up your favorite Chinese take away." Sherlock looked bewildered for a second. Jim wouldn't, would he? Neither of them was able to cook and Chinese was in fact the only take away they both equally appreciated. Well, Jim would. Inconsequence was nothing he used to know from his consulting boyfriend. Sherlock tried to smile and Jim seemed delighted. For real. "Thank you", he said slightly smiling and planting a kiss on Sherlock's temple. "So, this is really important for you?", he said hesitantly. Never had he thought, Jim was actually serious. "Yes, Sherly", he responded plainly. Sherlock nodded, seemingly taken aback. At least he got Jim a real gift, otherwise tomorrow would have become slightly awkward. It had been a real difficulty, finding a place to hide, but until now Jim hadn't found it. (in contrast to Sherlock, who already knew he'll get eatable underwear and a children book about astronomy).  
They spent the night on the couch, watching some crime TV (Jim complaining about amateur criminals, Sherlock complaining about amateur detectives) and eating their cookies. Jim rested his head in Sherlock's lap and smiled satisfied. 

They slept until lunchtime, staying in bed until noon, lazily stroking one another. Sherlock reconsidered Christmas, because how they spent it now was probably the best fucking way. Jim was innocent as a lamb, cuddly and smiling. He even cooked, as soon as they got up. He wore one of Sherlock's jumpers while Sherlock got into one of his Christmas jumpers as Jim bought him a lot of them. He didn't want to upset Jim again. Apparently it burned (Sherlock could've guessed) and they got fancy take away. Jim really seemed to enjoy their day and finally he decided it was time to open the presents (of course he wasn't exited, he insisted). Sherlock laughed at Jim unwrapping his gift. "What is this?", he asked speechless. "Well, don't old-fashioned villains have cats?" Jim mustered the plush cat and smiled. "They actually have." "That's not the present though. We're going on vacations." Jim blinked at the cat and shaked it. "What are you doing?", Sherlock laughed. "Well, the cat is a hint, is it? Where we go?" "No", Sherlock laughed, lowering himself next to him who sat on the ground. "We go skiing. I rented a hut in the Alps." Jim hugged the cat and gave Sherlock a kiss. "Thank you, even though these aren't the crown jewels." "I asked Mycroft but he said, he had them reserved for Graham." "Greg." "Yes." "What a pity", Jim pouted. He set the cat in his lap and lifted Sherlock's gift from under the tree. "I know, you know what it is -and we'll use half if it right after this- but I got something else too. Don't be mad I broke into your parent's house." Sherlock was prying. What could Jim had stolen? "As you got me a cat", he emerged a old ruffled bumblebee from under the loose floor panel. Sherlock's eyes widened and ripped it out of Jim's hands. "How did you know?" "I still wanted to surprise you so I asked Mycroft", he whispered and blushed. "Mycroft." Sherlock turned the plushy jn his hands. "How did you call him?" Sherlock smiled and gazed at Jim "James. His name was James." "For real?", he laughed. "Yes, apparently we were really meant to be." Jim just shook his head and kissed Sherlock passionately. He got it, Sherlock thought, Jim brought him Christmas spirit - Jim and James.


End file.
